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ART 


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OF ACTING. 


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INTRO.) UC EON, 


Ir a person (male or female) wishes to go upon the stage, 
thay ought to proceed about it in a business-like wy. 
There is nothing now to prevent this, and the first thiag 
I should advise is a proper course of study. The notion 
that some have of rushing from a counting-house, ca 
from behind a counter, directly to the boards of a theatre, 
is highly ridiculous. They serve a seven years’ appren- 
ticeship to a grocer or hosier, but they imagine they can 
jump at once on to the boards of a theatre, and have 
nothing else to do than suppose they are finished actors. 
Now this is a very great mistake, and if people would 
~ take the trouble to go through a little preparation ‘before 
F undergoing such an ordeal, it would be all the better for 
~ them. Dancing, fencing, boxing, singing, elocution,== 
music, and a taste for elegant dressing, are a few of the 
necessary accomplishments that an actor or actregs ought 
> to have. They cost both time and money, but the more 
7 preliminary work of this nature the youthful aspirant is 
~ made to undergo, the better for him—the easier for his 


w) 


future success, 


iv INTRODUCTION. 


In accordance with the line of business which the devotee 
aspires to, ought to be the studies. There is no occasion 
for the person who aspires to the Hamlets and Othellos of 
the drama, wasting his time in studying Bobby Trot or 
Benjamin Bowbell. I would also strongly recommend 
all who intend following the Thespian art to “ begin at 
the beginning.” Don’t come out in Richard or Macbeth 
—no, no, begin small, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, or the 
Seeond Actor are quite big enough parts for a novice. 


The chance of failure is samall. 


THE aRT OF ACTING. 


SESE Oe 


CHAPTER I. 


ON THE REQUISITES NECESSARY TO PERFORMERS OF Bota 
weXks—HrRors, Lovers, GENTLEMEN, TRADESMEN, 
Cuowys—Herornes, Frve Lapies, Hoypens, CHAMBER- 
MAIDS—CHARACTERS OF MippLE AND Otp AcE, MALE 
any FEMALE. 


3 


Tue first grand requisite for a dramatic artist, is power 
of mind: but this subject must be reserved for future 
consideration, and it is then intended to be insisted upon, 
and inquired into, on that extensive seale which a gift 
so essential to the formation of a great Actor demands. 
The next, which is almost equally indispensable, though 
as infinitely inferior, is a pertectiy distinct articulation. 
Some mistakenly imagine that this is always the result of 
a sound intonation, and power of voice. Intonation and 
power of voice, when accompanied by distinct articulation, 
are invaluable to an actor; but by no means so absolutely 
necessary. 

Classes might be multiplied at pleasure, but they will 
appertain, more or less to the following :— 

Heroes, Lovers, Gentlemen, Tradesmen, Clowns ; Hero- 
ines, Fine Ladies, Hoydens, Chambermaids ; Characters 
of Middle and Old Age, Male and Female. 

A sketch of the qualities necessary to each of these 
classes is only at present intended. 

Heroes.—No performer can personate a hero truly, 
unless did events favor him, he be capable of actually 
becoming a hero, or did not his reason and inclination 
prefer different pursuits. Let him be possessed of all this 
amgnetic power of mind, and his defects of voice and 
person must be excessive if they are unconquerable. 
Give him that mighty power, and adistinct articulation, 


6 THE ART OF ACTING. 


clearness, compass, and strength of voice and athletic aud 
correct symmetry of person, with pliant yet pleasing 
features, capable of all the varieties ard the full force of 
expressing the various passions, and this mmaginary actor 
will be one who has never yet been beheld. Many per- 
formers, however, are on record, male and female, who, 
were the picture given of them by their admirers correct, 
who have approached, if not attained, nay surpassed this 
perfection. Roscius was the father of a numerous progeny; 
for many have assumed or willingly accepted his name. 
That he was the essence. of all that was perfect we must 
now take upon trust. Admiration, in all ages, might be 
more truly painted blind than Justice; like a stone cast 
into still water, it begins with raising a small circle, and 
from circle to circle spreads, till it necessarily dies away 
because it can extend no further. 

Lovers.—In the lover all the exterior charms which can 
steal upon and enslave the female heart, should be com- 
bined: a smiling, prepossessing, yet anxious face, beauty 
of form, elegance of manners, sweetness of voice, passionate 
eyes, and susceptibility of heart, should all enrapture his 
mistress. Add to these, the feminine beauties, graces, and 
accomplishments, and the description will be suitable to 
the other sex. 

Gentlemen.— The requisites to personate this character 
completely are many, and difficult indeed to attain; they 
are perfect ease of deportment, even under the most 
embarrassing circumstances! manners that conciliate and 
gain universal esteem; good breeding so disciplined as 
never to be thrown from its guard, or, except on the most 
extraordinary occasions, betrayed to the discovery of 
passion ; asmooth and flowing enunciation; a bland gaiety 
of heart that no trifles can disturb; a flattering yet not 
officious attention to every person present; and all those 
charms of address and demeanour which cannot fail to win 
our affections. There have been almost as few gentlemen 
on the stage as heroes. 

Tradesmen.-—In a certain sense, all the characters of 
middle life are affiliated to this class; but as it is not 
here intended to individualize them, this subdivision will 
be deferred. The qualities of a tradesman are such as 


THE ART OF ACTIN. 7 


mosé performers, who have abilities for the dramatic art, 
may easily personate. Habit induces the mere tradesman 
to be stbservient in his manner, especially to the wealthy, 
and on extraordinary occasions, servile. He renders 
contradiction smooth, listens to it patiently ; intends to 
flatter, but does it awkwardly ; complies with any request, 
if his interest be not compromised; is always ready with 
the tradesman’s bow, not only at meeting and parting, 
but wherever it can be intruded; and his eye, attitudes, 
and slightest actions, wherever his interest is concerned, 
are all anxiously intent on, and subject to, that eager desire 
of gain, which habit has rendered a predominant passion. 
By the nature and extent of this, his deportment is re- 
gulated. His propensities appear on all occasions; but 
they appear slightly, earnestly, or extravagantly, in 
proportion to supposed loss or gain. It is not by this 
intended to deprecate a class of men, but to describe habits, 
which are inevitably fostered by barter and sale, unless 
counteracted by superiority of mind, or extraneous cir- 
cumstances—and to give a picture such as an actor, who 
literally personates a tradesman, ought to have in con- 
templation. 

Clowns.—Rustic appearance, vacant or gazing eyes, an 
open mouth, arms dangling, yet the shoulders raised, the 
toes turned inward, a shambling gait with a heavy step, 
great slowness of conception, and apparent stupidity of 
mind and manner, characterize the absolute clown, The 
varieties of this class, like the last, are interesting subjects 
of study for the stage, but are too frequently misunder- 
stood. Vary the portrait by red ribbons, coloured petticoats, 
timidity, and maudlin freaks, and his counterpart is seen. 

Heroines.—Give feminine dignity of person, and all the 
qualities described under the title heroes, with that per- 
vading force of sensibility which shall never vanquish, 
though it shall often endanger heroism, and the heroine 
will be nearly perfect. | 

Fine Ladies.—The fine tady’s is, or should be, even a 
more fascinating character on the stage, than that which 
has been pictured under the head Gentlemen ; for tu the 
almost unattainable gracefulness of the gentleman, she 
should add a continued playfulness, a visible coquetry, 


8 THE ART OF ACTING. 


which though perfectly at her command should appear 
spontaneous, and an ample mixture of delightful caprice, 
which she evidently indulges only to make herself more 
captivating. Should the actress suffer the least vulgarity. 
to appear, either in walk, attitude, dress, or enunciation, 
the fine lady instantly vanishes. Her dress is of so much 
consequence, that the moment she appears her character 
should be visible ; and this art of dress is only to be ob- 
tained by the study of that which is almost simplicity 
itself; or would be, were she to take away a very few 
ornaments, tastefully selected, and adinirably piaced, by 
which she intends to be distinguished. 

Hoydens.—A hoyden exhibits herself by an impatient 
readiness to romp, eagerness to contradict, fretfulness if 
contradicted, vehement wishes to enjoy dress that is 
ridiculous, by exceeding the fashion, and, while absurd in 
manner, loud of voice, and a total stranger to good breed- 
ing, always evincing an air of excessive self-satisfaction. 

Chambermaids.—V olubility, pertness, a prevailing sense 
of self-importance, irksome curiosity, uncommon acuteness 
in all that relates to family secrets, extreme ignorance of 
everything beyond her sphere, impatient to prattle, 
timid when overawed, with a pleasure in being rude 
when she dare, are most of them what the chambermaid 
supposes to be her peculiar airs and graces. 

Middle and Old Age.—In the various stages of declining 
life, though the passions are less strong, many of the evil 
habits of youth become rooted, and should appear mingled 
with the propensities which prevail in age, among 
which are, anxiety concerning trifles, increasing avarice, 
obstinacy, a petulant inclination to contradict, a gradual 
disregard of good breeding, ceremony, and dress, uncon- 
trollable peevishness, and change of voice, walk, and 
carriage ; all of which qualities are to be regulated partly 
by age, but still more by the mental strength or debility 
of the character supposed. In the personification of the 
above classes, and of all the characters which are allied 
to them, the peculiar study of the actor should be directed 
to understand the limits of insipidity and exaggeration. 

Some of the delineations may appear to refer only to 
the mind; but a good performer well knows that the 


YHE ART OF ACTING. § 


boty is entirely regulated by that which passes in the 
inind; and so true an interpreter is action, that words 
after they are spoken, seem only to elucidate what ap- 
peared before, though it had been but imperfectly under- 
sLOOU. 


CHAPTER II. 


LETIONW—~TRAGIC, COMIC, AND UNIMPASSIONED. 


u 


Action is held to be so high a qualification, that some 
have affirmed it to be the first, and almost the exclusive 
art of an orator. This opinion is extravagant; but that 
appropriate action, on various occasions, produces unex- 
pected and forcible. effect, is daily proved, as well by 
orators, as stage performers. 

Severe investigation will, perhaps demonstrate, that the 
deportment of the orator and his organs of speech are 
equally under the guidance of the mind; that passion, what- 
ever its nature may be, as well as comic humour, are never 
forcibly and adequately expressed but when the mind, at 
the moment of delivery, has a strong, powerful, and clear 
conception of the. thoughts and passions which are 
personated; and that it can never accurately portray 
them, but when it is itself under this kind of enthusiastic 
impression. ‘The rules, therefore, for action and inton- 
ation must be intrinsically the same. 

All this appears to be true; but it likewise appears 
that the mind may partially conceive, and that, when it 
is either ignorant or inattentive, the organs of personifi- 
cation, whether of action or of intonation, are in a like 
proportion deficient. Every art must be studied in detail ; 
and only as far as itis thoroughly understood in its minute 
parts, can unity and perfection be the result. Different 
performers are found to be deficient in different ways and 
degrees. The person who would instruct must not be 
afraid to speak of too seeming trifles, or of being thought 
tedious; nor must the person who is in need of instruction, 
complain of the labour and delay of reading, before he 
arrives at those rules of which he thinks himself most in 


19 THE ART OF ACTING. 


want. Knowledge, like mountains, is composed of sinal]} 
and seemingly insignificant particles. The great misfortune 
is, in the students of this and other arts, that having 
overcome their first impediments, they imagine themselves 
to be in no further need of excellence, and treat advice as 
ths usive imper tinence. 

“Action is either tragic, comic, or unimpassioned. The 
parts of which it is composed are standing, walking, 
running, attitude, and gesture; for the proper conduct of 
all which it is necessary to understand the use and 
management of the eye, the arm, the hand, the knees, 
legs, and feet, and the proper deportment of the whole 
body. 

To express the imperious and uncontrollable passions 
is the province of tragic action. It is never the intention 
of persons who are under the dominion of passion, to 
make themselves the subject of laughter. There ar 
many instances in which they produce this effect, unin- 
tentionally; but they belong to the ignoble passions, and 
are within the province of comic action and comic person- 
ages; for the same passions, when felt by persons of a 
different character, become dignified, terrible, and destruc- 
tive, and therefore cannot excite laughter. Avarice, which 
is, in some instances, highly comic, in others becomes the 
scourge and desolation of kingdoms. Many poets have 
well delineated the ridicule to which the jealous sometimes 
subject themselves; though passions of a private kind 
have more frequently produced scenes of tragic horror. 

The nature of tragic action, therefore, is energetic, 
daring, and impetuous, That which would be extravagant 
and ridiculous in persons of equal and calm minds, is 
frequently an appropriate, necessary, and true expression 
of passion. The impassioned person may be remarkably 
reasonable and sagacious in some parts of his behaviour, ~ 
even the moment preceding an act of phrenzy. 

Of this, remarkable instances are afforded. In Paris, 
wretches frantic and in the last paroxysm of despair, when 
about to dash themselves on the pavement, from garrets 
six or eight stories high, have, on several occasions, warned 
the passengers below to take care of themselves. A 
dreadful but a fine lessen this to actors; who, by the 


THE ART OF ACTING. | it 


working of the features, their gesticulations, and their 
whole deportment, although they appear by the words they 
speak to be in full possession of their understanding, may 
exhibit to the audience an inward convulsion of nature, 
that threatens and forbodes destruction. 

In stage personification nothing can more offend than 
the tame rant and composed recollection with which the 
crimes of passion are perpetrated. Instead of feeling and 
picturing the violent, frantic, and sudden emotions of 
passion, actors, with very few exceptions, are continually — 
impressed with the wretched and ignorant persuasion that 
a long stride, a uniform swing of the arm, and a mono- 
tonous clamorous bellow, are the grand requisites of a 
tragedian, This persuasion is so strong in them, and they 
are so self-satisfied, that they appear for ages to have aped 
each other. | 

This they fully conclude is all that appertains to or can 
be achieved by tragic action; and the spectator or the 
critic who should affirm there is a deficiency of knowledge 
and execution in any one of them, would be immediately 
accused of an endeavour to deprive a meritorious indt- 
vidual, who lies at the mercy of the public, of the means 
of subsistence. It is true, indeed, that any spectator or 
critic who shall decry performers in general terms, and 
not point out their defects in any clear and distinct way, 
by which they may be understood and corrected, ought 
rather to be deemed cynical than serviceable. Against 
_this kind of critic all pwblic men have a just right to 
exclaim. Were such general criticism which does not 
discriminate, reprobated and held in contempt, the task of 
a critic would then become as respectable and as beneficial 
as it is too often, at present, nugatory, defamatory, and 
destructive of good taste. 

It should be the first business of an actor decply to 
investigate each character which he pretends to perform, 
and imbue his whole soul with recollections never to be 
erased, of the number and nature of the wild starts of 
passion to which the character to be represented is subject: 
be should note them in his books, explain them to himself, 
and memorandum them immediately, and at that happy 
instant when he conceives them in their fullest force, should 


WAIVERSITY OF ILLINGH® 
LIBRARY 


ri 


12 THE ART OF ACTING. 


study all the various ways in which they show themselves, 
and, in fact, make himself a most profound and masterly 
commentator on the passions, their consequences, and their 
marks, prognostics, and appearance. Whatalabour wouid 
it be thus to study no more than Macbeth, Hamlet, Lear, 
and Othello. Yet these characters we daily find every 
beardless stripling is eager to represent, and imagines he 
may fret and strut his hour upon the stage quite as well 
as another: neither is he, in general, very far from the 
truth. 

Comic acting has, likewise, its fits and starts, but of 
totally a different nature ; yet there is this grand similarity, 
that he alone can be successful who makes man his study. 
Excellent comic actors, howevei, far are more numerous 
than excellent tragedians ; and the reason appears to be 


_plain : men take pleasure in observing the follies of others, 


which follies are almost continually before their eyes; 
while the action of the tragic passions gives so much pain, 
that it is shunned, if possible, and to give peace to the mind, 
endeavoured to be buried in forgetfulness. Laughter can 
likewise be excited by oddity of action; such as may 
accompany almost any habit, or caprice of mind, without 
destroying, but rather tending to give zest to that habit, 
or caprice; therefore, though the follies of men are daily 
present to the eye, superficial observers have no knowledge 
of the gestures, attitudes, or demeanour, that are most 
usually found to appertain to each different class of 
humourists. 

There are, indeed, some general rules, that cannot be 
mistaken: such as that age is feeble, has bent knees, a falter- 
ing voice, a curbed body, and a discontented countenance ; 
but, the countenance excepted, these properties may as wel] 
belong to a man of the soundest understanding, and most 
rational demeanour, as to a man of the most eccentric habits. 

Truly to class, and effectually to personify the different 
gesticulations, attitudes, and modes of deportment, 
of the different species of humour, which generally 
prevail, the volume of nature must be industriously 
studied; and the labours of the comic performer will be 
no less than those of the tragedian, for they will both be 
endless, 


THE ART OF ACTING. 13 


Were this-great task executed in any tolerable degree, 
comic actors would not be, what they almost all are, such 
inannerists that one of them cannot long be mistaken for 
another; they would so transform themselves, so embody 
each character, have such various modes of gesticulation, 
such change of demeanour, and be so entirely different 
each time from anything they had ever seen before, that, 
speaking of spectators in general, the comedian would 
defy them to any certainty of guess as to the name and 
person of the performer, unless indeed, some one actor 
should be so superior to all his companions in this art of 
transformation, that he would always betray himself by 
his excellence. 

What then should the duty of a comedian be? To 
note down with a keen eye, the various gesticulations, 
and modes of deportment, of every individual in society ; 
and to memorandum every turn of the face, every motion 
of the eye, and every posture of the body, with the turn 
of mind and occupation of the person to whom they 
belong. 

Were they to carry on the enquiries no further than to 
all the persons of whom they havesome personal knowledge, 
and having a character to perform, would adopt the 
deportment, gesticulation, grimace, look, and tone. of 
voice, of a different individual for every different character, 
suiting each with each as their judgment should direct, 
how infinitely greater and more delightful would the 
variety be, than that uniformity which at present prevails. 

Of unimpassioned action little need be said, more than 
will be found hereafter, among the remarks on genera 
deportment. 

In the following chapters of this work, the detail of 
action will be considered under its various heads. The 
intention in what has been said, is to strongly impress 
the importance: of this branch of study upon the mind of 
the actor; and to convince him, if possible, that should 
he neglect it, or treat it in a light and superficial manner, 
he never can arrive at perfection in his profession. 


14 F THE ART OF ACTING. 


CHAPTER III. 


OF VARIOUS DEFECTS IN ACTION—WALK—DEMEANCUR— 
COMMON TO INATTENTIVE ACTORS. 


Previous to speaking of the more important parts of 
the art of acting, it may be beneficial to performers to 
remind them of various habitual defects, that have 
hitherto been frequent among them, and many of which 
imply a degree of folly, or of incapacity, that is highly 
degrading to their profession, which supposes, and indeed 
requires, extraordinary talents, industry, and discrimination. 

An actor ought to be perfectly acquainted with the 
story, which he takes part in relating; that is, with the 
plot, its progress, the intention of the author, in the whole 
and in every individual scene; the apartment or place in 
which every scene passes, and the deportment which the 
particular nature of that scene, and of the part he is, to 
take in it, requires. He should remember, conscientiously, 
that every fault which he commits in a new piece, of 
which the public yet know nothing, is attributed to the 
author; and that, by any inattention or mistake of his, 
he may bring ridicule and contempt on the piece, which 
are properly due to the actor. This is only urged, among 
other reasons, to remind and imprint upon the memories 
of performers, the serious and the difficult nature of their 
duties. . 

Among performers, who are favourites with the public in 
particular, it is far from uncommon to see them so totally 
forget decency, the respect due to an audience, and the con- 
tempt which they bring upon themselves, as to look about 
them, into the boxes and the pit, in order to discover either 
who they know, or even, sometimes, impudently to make 
slight nods, signs, or grins; a fault so very insolent, or 
so truly forgetful, not merely of public respect, but of the 
whole tenor of the business in which they are engaged, 
that it would be scarcely too severe a punishment if an 
audience were unanimously to rise, and insist upon the 
performers wh6 thus trangress, not daring to appear again 
for a month, and during that space of time, to lose their 
emoluments. 

I say. this is a most audacious and insulting practice, 


THE ART OF ACTING. 14 


and betrays insensibility, consummate vanity, or rather 
effronterv, and great deficiency of intellect. The faults 
that follow are equally offensive to dramatic effect, but not 
to personal feeling. 

Pezformers are not unfrequently seen to read a letter 
upon the stage, and, perhaps from accident, perhaps from 
fright, or some passion which the scene is supposed to in- 
spire, they will suffer the letter to drop, and never conde- 
scend to pick it up again. 

It is needless to state the many reasons that rendar 
such conduct ridiculous, absurd, and unnatural.. Iti a 
fault for which no excuse can be offered. 

Of the same nature is that of the stage hero, who, ben g 
about to tilt with another, puts himself into an atti- 
tude, but first carefully, with a flourish, throws away his 
hat; and after the battle, walks away bareheaded to coc 
himself: no doubt wishing it to be supposed that he 1. 
too important a person, or has too feverish a brain, at 
such atime for him to walk with his hat on; and therefore 
the stage keepers are sent in the face of the audience to 
take it away. 

Is this common sense? Does it not incur the sneer of 
every spectator who is attentive to the conduct of the 
scenes ? | 

Swords are frequently seen left, with the same unac- 
countable carelessness, when the owners hear their cues 
for leaving the stage. 

In short, the neglectful and ridiculous incidents of 
this nature, of which performers are very frequently 
guilty, note a laxity of discipline, and prove, that there 
is no person whose nightly duty it is to superintend the 
whole conduct of a piece, and exact a rigid, but just 
decorum. The want of such a censor, such a disciplinarian, 
is much greater than is imagined. 

Going off at a wrong door, or rather where there is not 
supposed to be any door, or aperture, is another of the 
strange but still more familiar absurdities. 

In the mode of entering and retiring from the stage a 
judicious actor cannot too carefully consider what is the 

tone of feeling which he himself is supposed to have, in 
combination with that of other performers, or rather of the 


16 THE ART OF ACTING. 


scene itself. Offence is sometimes given to a discriminating 
judge, by the performer's neglect of this consideration, at 
entering; but more frequently at forgetting, as it were, 
to give intimation, either by a restless look, an attitude, 
an approach to the door, or some other mode of intending 
to depart. Unless in particular cases, departure should 
never appear to be unexpected and abrupt; for then it is 
not only spiritless, but often improbable, and certainly un- 
meaning. To enter and retire perfectly in unison with 
the tone or passion of the scene, is what may be called a 
delicate branch of the art of acting; which though it does 
not require deep study, demands great attention. 

To tragedians and the performers of gentlemen, a short 
step 1s peculiarly destructive of dignity; while in cha- 
racters of low breeding, but of animation, it is no less a 
true mark of such persons. To step with measured 
affectation, like an opera dancer to a march, is no less 
laughable ; it destroys reality, for a spectator cannot but 
imagine he sees a foolish actor, instead of the character he 
ought to personify. 

The short step excites risibility at first, and at length 
contempt and weariness, when it is accompanied, as is seen 
in some actors, by a mechanical and uninterruptedly alter- 
native habit of first stepping forward and then stepping 
back. Among country actors this is no uncommon fault; 
and in the metropolitan theatres it is seen, but in a less 
glaring manner. 

The action of the arms ought to be carefully modest and 
restrained. There are performers who at the first sen- 
tence, with their right hand, and the second, with their left, 
continue an alternate movement through each speech. 
They must have taken peculiar pains to have acquired 
such a puppet-show mode of disposing of themselves. 

There are many who have a see-saw eternally monoto- 
nous motion and delivery, which, were nothing else seen 
or heard, would soon lull the patient spectator to sleep. 

There are others who continually shake a single finger, 
some two fingers, some the whole hand, but the shaking 
must continue while they are speaking. 

The frequent clenching of the fist is a favourite mode 
which several actors have, of endeavouring te make the 


THE ART OF ACTING. 17 


audience believe how much they are in earnest, especially 
in the character of tyrants. 

The arms a-kimbo, is also often thought the attitude of 
grandeur, instead of, as it really is, the certain sign of 
vulgar and inflated imbecility. 

It is not possible to recollect, in the closet, all the 
various 11! habits and errors into which performers fall in 
their deportment. In comic actors, such mistakes are 
less noticed; but they are frequently quite as gross. ‘To 
suit the action to the word’ is, indeed, a difficult task ; 
for it is first highly necessary to enquire what words 
demand, or rather will endure action.. The arm that 
is always in motion is always unmeaning. 

In all characters where good breeding and education are 

supposed, great care is required; and violent action can 
never be proper, but to violent passion; the shades that 
lie between the. two extremes are what require the studious 
discrimination of the performer. 
‘_ Comic deportment should be as various as comic cha- 
racters: nay, indeed, there are personal varieties, which 
are indicated in the sketching and filling up of every 
comedy; so that two tradesmen, two fathers, nay, two 
misers, or any other class of character, should be 
individualised, and have separate modes of behaviour. 

Among other defects there is one which is very common 
that of bowing and courtesying at improper times, to an 
audience. 

It appears strange that actors should have so little con- 
sidered the nature of dramatic exhibition, as not to have 
it imprinted on their minds that, when they are on the 
stage, they are supposed real and not fictitious persons ; 
and that it is an injury to scenic effect, whenever they are 
otherwise remembered than as the characters they 
represent. In this respect they should set the audience a 
good example; for audiences are composed of a large 
mixture of the illiterate, the inconsiderate, and persons 
educated among the vulgar, or only half informed at best, 
with a select few capable of distinguishing the merits of the 
excellent actor, and of bestowing well-deserved applause. 

Performers who are frequently seen in favourable char- 
acters must be bad indeed, if they do not become the 


i8 *He ART OF ACTING. 


dehght of the audience. When they appear, a social and 
pleasing gratitude bestows applause; but of this, whatever 
“may be the feelings of the heart, the actor should appear 
to know nothing; for the applause is to the person, and 
to notice it is totally to forget the character, which is 
neither living nor present. 

Scenic illusion is thus destroyed, and too often by that 
which betrays meanness of mind: for, surely, nothing 
can be more egotistical, or have a more pitiful humble 
air of begging approbation, than the manner in which 
performers, especially singers, will repeat their bows and 
courtesies, whenever they can find the slightest pretence. 
Like children watching for sugar-plums, they cry: ‘Oh, 
how sweet! Pray let me have a little more.” 

The beginning of a season, or on a benefit night, or 
whenever a person has personally to address an audience, 
are the chief if not the only times at which such re- 
ciprocal gratitude ought to be publicly expressed. Any 
of the injudicious acts of a mixed audience cannot 
authorize want of judgment, much less absurdity in an 
actor. 


CHAPTER IV. 
EXPRESSION OF CHARACTER.* 


I sHALL aow proceed to consider that very essential 
branch of the actor’s art, which consists in characteristic 
expression. 

Love, when successful, lights up the countenance into 
wulles; the forehead is smooth and enlarged ; the eye- 
brows are arched; the mouth a little open and smiling ; 
the eyes languishing and half shut, or gazing on the 
beloved object. The accents are soft and winning, the 
tone of voice persuasive, flattering, pathetic, various, 
musical, rapturous, asin Joy. Kneelingis often necessary 
in all suppliant passions; but it is only necessary to bend 


* Lebrun's celebrated series of plates, ‘‘The Passions of the Human Soul,” 
should be attentively studied by every aspirant to dramatic fame. ; 


THE AR O* ACTING. 19 


one knee in case of love, destre, &c., which must never 
be the one that is next the audience. 

Jealousy, which is a mixture of passions, directly con- 

trary to one another, can only be justly represented by 
one who is capable of delineating all the passions by — 
turns. Jealousy shows itself by restlessuess, peevishness, 
thoughtfulness, anxiety, absence of miaa, &c. 

Rage or Anger expresses itself with rapidity, inter- 
ruption, violence, harshness, and trepidation. The neck is 
stretched out, the head forward, often nodding and 
shaking in a menacing manner against the object of the 
passion; the mouth open and drawn on each side towards 
the ears, showing the teeth in a gnashing posture; the 
feet often stamping; the right arm frequently thrown out 
menacingly, with the clenched fist shaken, and a general 
and violent agitation of the whole body. 

Hatred or Aversion, expressed to or of any person or 
thing that is odious to the speaker, occasions his drawing 
back or avoiding the approach of what he hates; the 
hands are at the same time thrown out spread, as if to 
keep it off; the face turned away from the side toward 
which the hands are thrown out, the eyes looking angrily. 

Joy, when sudden and violent, is expressed by clapping 
ofhands, and exulting looks; the eyes are opened wide, and 
on some occasions raised to Heaven; and the countenance 
is smiling, not composedly, but with features aggravated. 

Delight or Pleasure is expressed by placid looks and 
moderate smiles. 

Threatening puts on the looks and voice of reproof; 
brandishes and shakes the right hand; the voice strong 
and the accents quick. 

Acquitting is performed with a benevolent, tranquil 
countenance, and tone of voice; the right hand, if not 
both, open, and waived gently toward the person acquitted, 
expressing dismission. 

Condemning assumes a severe look, but mixed with 
pity; the sentence is to be expressed as with reluctance. 

Pardoning differs from acquitting, in that the latter 
clears a person, after a trial, of guilt; whereas the former 
supposes guilt, and signifies merely delivering the guilty 
person from punishment. 


20 THE ART OF ACTING. 


Teaching, Explaining, or Giving Orders to an inferior, 
requires an air of superiority to be assumed ; the features 
are to be composed to an authoritative gravity; the eyes 
steady and open; the eyebrows a little drawn over, but 
not so much as to look surly or dogmatical (except in the 
character of a pedant); the pitch of voice must be strong 
and clear, the tone varying according as the emphasis 
required; the articulation must be distinct, the utterance 
slow, and the manner peremptory. 

Intoxication or Drunkenness, shows itself by eyes half 
shut, sleepy, stupid, and inflamed; an idiot smile, a 
ridiculous surliness, or affected bravado, mark the 
countenance; the words are interrupted by hiccups, and 
without proper articulation; the head seems too heavy 
for the neck; the arms dangle from the shoulders; the 
legs totter and bend at the knees; and a _ general 
incapacity exhibits human nature sunk below the brutal. 
The actor, in staggering, may sometimes have occasion to 
fall, which must be done with great adroitness, as a 
drunken man’s falls are generally violent. 

Fear, violent and sudden, opens the mouth and eyes very 
wide, draws down the eyebrows, gives the countenance 
an air of wildness, draws back the elbows parallel with 
the sides, lifts up the open hand (the fingers together) to 
the height of the breast, so that the palms face the 
dreadful object, as shields opposed against it; one foot 
is drawn back behind the other, so that the body seems 
shrinking from danger, and putting itself in a posture for 
flight; the heart beats violently, the breath is fetched quick 
and short, and the whole body is thrown in a general tremor. 

Hope brightens the countenance, arches the eyebrows, 
gives the eyes an eager, wistful look, half opens the mouth 
bends the body a little forward, spreads the arms, with the 
hands open, as if to receive the object of its longings. 

Desire expresses itself by bending the body forward, and 
stretching the arms toward the object as if to grasp at it; 
the countenance smiling, but eager and wistful; the eyes 
wide open; and the tone of voice suppliant, but lively 
and cheerful. 

Grief, sudden and violent, expresses itself by beating 
the head or forehead, tearing the hair, catching the breath, 


TUE ART OF ACTING, 21 


as if choking; also by screaming, weeping, stamping, 
lifting the eyes from time to time to Heaven, and hurrying 
backwards and forwards. 

Despair bends the eyebrows downwards, clouds the 
forehead, rolls the eyes, and sometimes bites the lips, and 
gnashes with the teeth; the heart is supposed to be too 
much hardened to suffer the tears to flow, yet the eyeballs 
must be red and inflamed. When despair is supposed to 
drive the actor to distraction and self-murder, it can 
seldom or never be overacted. 

Forbidding draws the head backward, and holds out 
the hand with the palm towards the person; the voice is 
bold and the accents strong. 

Affirming, if with an oath, is expressed by lifting the 
open right hand, and both hands and eyes to Heaven; 
sometimes kneeling; but if conscience be only appealed 
to, the right hand is laid upon the breast. 

Denying is expressed by pushing the open right hand 
from you, and turning the face the contrary way. 

Refusing, when accompanied with displeasure, is done 
with a visible reluctance, which occasions the bringing 
out the words slowly, and with a shake of the head. 

Granting, when done with unreserved good-will, is 
accompanied with a benevolent aspect and tone of voice. 

Dismissing, with approbation, is done with a kind aspect 
and tone of voice; the right hand open, gently waived 
toward the person. With displeasure, beside the look 
and tone of voice which suit displeasure, the hand is 
hastily thrown out toward the person dismissed, the back 
put toward him, the countenance at the same time turned 
away from him. 

Madness, opens the eyes to a frightful wildness, rolls 
them hastily and wildly from object to object, distorts 
every feature, and appears all agitation; the voice some- 
times loud, and sometimes plaintive, accompanied with 
tears.—( Octavian in the ‘‘ Mountaineers.”’) 

Promising is expressed by benevolent looks; the nod 
of consent, and the open hands gently moved towards 
the person to whom the promise is made, the palms up- 
wards ; the sincerity of the promise may be expressed by 
laying the right hand gently upon the breast. 


22 THE ART OF ACTING. 


Affectation displays itself in a thousand differem g?s- 
tures, motions, airs, and looks, according to the charactor. 
Affected characters can seldom be overacted.* 

Sloth appears by yawning, dozing; the head dangling 
sometimes on one side, sometimes on the other; the 
arms stretched out; the eyes heavy, and sometimes 
closed; the words drawling out, scarcely audible, and 
sometimes broken off; people who walk in their sleep 
(Lady Macbeth) appear as if in a dream, with their eyes 
open. 

Fatigue gives a general languor to the body; the 
countenance is dejected; the arms listless; and the legs, 
are dragged heavily along, and seem at every step to bend 
under the weight of the body. The voice is weak. 

Duty and espect for a parent or superior, put on the 
look and gesture of modesty. 

Giving, Inviting, Soliciting, and such like actions, which 
suppose some degree of affection, real or pretended, are 
accompanied with much the same looks and gestures as 
express love, but more moderate ; in soliciting it is fre- 
quently necessary to kneel, and speak with ardour. 

Wonder or Amazement opens the eyes, sometimes 
raising them, but oftener, and more expressively, fixing 
them on the object, if visible, with the look (except the 
wildness) of Frar. If the hands hold anything at the 
time when the object of wonder appears, they let it drop, 
unconsciously; the whole body fixes in a contracted, stoop- 
ing posture, the mouth open, and the hands held up 
extended. 

Admiration, a mixed passion, consisting of wonder and 
love, or esteem, takes away the familiar gesture and ex- 
pression of love, but keeps the respectful look and attitude. 

Gratitude puts on an aspect full of complacency or love; 
if the object thereof be a character greatly superior, it 
expresses much modesty and submission; the right hand 
pressed upon the breast accompanies the expression of 
sincere and hearty sensibility of obligation. 

Curiosity, as of a busy-body, opens the eyes and mouth ; 
lengthens the neck; bends the body forward; and fixes 


* This maxim may seem doubtful, but the success of Lord Dundreary 
seems to vindicate its truth. 


THE ART OF ACTING. 23 


it in one posture, with that of admiration, assuming alter- 
nately the look of Hope, Desire, Attention, &c. 

Persuasion puts on the look of moderate love; its 
accents are soft, flattering, emphatic, and articulate. 

Dotage, Infirmity, or Old Age, shows itself by hollow- 
ness of eyes and cheeks, dimness of sight, deafness and 
tremor of voice, hams weak, knees tottering, hands or 
head paralytic, hollow coughing, frequent expectoration, 
breathless wheezing, occasional groaning, and the body 
stooping under an insupportable load of years. 

Absence of Mind displays an inattention to what passes, 
and commits every mistake with a seeming unconscious- 
ness: the least appearance of art destroys the whole effect 
of the character. 

Hypocrisy has generally a smile on the face, when the 

erson to be deceived is present; when alone, in his 
soliloquies, the villain is to be portrayed in the countenance. 

Modesty or Submission bends the body forward; levels 
the eye to the breast, if not to the feet of the superior 
character ; the voice low, and the tone submissive. 

Vexation agitates the whole frame; and besides ex- 
pressing itself with looks, gestures, restlessness, and tone 
of perplexity, it adds those ef complaint, fretting and 
lamenting. | 

Pity, a mixed passion of love and grief, looks down 
upon the object of compassion with lifted hands ; eyebrows 
drawn down; mouth open, and features drawn together ; 
the voice is frequently to be interrupted with sighs; the 
hands sometimes employed in wiping the eyes; for, in 
some cases, a hero may even to his honour weep. 

Shame turns away the face from the beholder, hangs 
the head, casts down the eyes, draws down the eyebrows; 
the speech is delivered in faltering accents. 

Shame or Confusion, in comedy, admits of some ridicu- 
lous gestures and grimaces. 

Remorse casts down the countenance, and clouds it with 
anxiety; hangs down the head, draws the eyebrows down 
upon the eyes; the right hand beats the breast, the teeth 
gnash; the whole body is strained and violently agitate? 

Boasting, or Affecting Courage is loud, bluste~ 
threatening ; the eyes stare, the eyebrows draw- 


24 THE ART OF ACTING. 


the face is red and bloated; the mouth pouts out; tha 
voice hollow and thundering ; the arms are set a-kimbo, 
the head often nodding in.a menacing manner, and the 
right fist clenched, brandishing, from time to time, at the 
person threatened; the right foot is often stamped upon 
the ground, the legs take longer strides, and the steps 
are heavy. 

Pride assumes a lofty look; the upper eye-lies drawn 
down; the mouth pouting out, mostly shut, and the 
lips pinched close; the words drawled out; a strut, with 
a slow, stiff affectation of importance; the arms are 
generally a-kimbo, and the legs at a distance from one 
another, taking large and solemn strides. 

Obstinacy adds to the aspect of pride, a dogged sour- 
ness, like that of malice. 

Authority opens the countenance, but draws down the 
-eyebrows a little, so far as to give the look of gravity. 


CHAPTER V. 
DRESS, MAKING UP, ETC.* 


Tue following is something like an enumeration of the 
dresses required for the different lines of business :— 

Tragedy.—The First Tragedian will require dresses for 
Hamlet, Richard, Macbeth, Claude Melnotte, &c., a toga, 
shirt and armour for Roman characters, two or three 
embroidered and plain shirts, a shape dress for Sir 
Giles Overreach, &c. <A dozen different wigs, ringlets, &c., 
at least three swords, a cross-sword, a Roman sword, and 
a claymore; pantaloons and tights of various colours, in 
worsted and silk; russet boots, black and russet shoes, 
old English shoes with buckles; gauntlets, plain and 
embroidered collars, ruffles, drawing-shirts, sword car- 
riages, belts, &c.; black, white, red, and various feathers ; 
ornaments, suchas brooches, buckles, shoe and knee, a 
star, hat ornaments, the Royal Garter, Cross of the Legion 
of Honor, jewelled collar, coronets, &c., &e. 


‘Lacy’. Dramatic Costumes” will be a valuable guide to the actor or 
« who desire to distinguish themselves by appropriate costumes. 


THE ART OF ACTING. 25 


The Second, or Juvenile Tragedian, will also require 
most of the above, with the addition of modern suits, also 
various pairs of breeches, pantaloons, wigs, &e. 

Light Comedy.—A well cut modern wardrobe ; military 
and naval dress and undress uniforms; dress coats, with 
steel buttons; dress sword, regulation sword, epaulettes ; 
tights, russet boots, shoes, wigs, &e. 

Old Men.— Characteristic wigs, ruffles, cravats, and hats; 
walking-sticks, buckles, watch-chain and seals; square- 
toed shoes, stockings, &e. 

Low Comedy.—The Low Comedian should provide 
himself with wigs of various characters, stockings of 
peculiar patterns, coats and trousers of quaint cuts, waist- 
coats of various styles; in modern farce, so much being 
left to the dressing. He will, likewise, require country- 
men’s coats and breeches of various materials and colours ; 
shape dresses, &c.; Servant’s gold band, cockade, and 
liveries, feathers, &e. : 

Walking Gentlemen require all the useful articles enume- 
rated under each of the above heads, excepting, of course, 
those peculiarly pertaining to the leading characters. 

For the Ladies, their own knowledge will direct them ; 
but the following are a few of the things they must have:— 

Tragedy.—Black. velvet dress, with long and short 
sleeves, white satin dresses, with long and short sleeves, 
scarlet robe, and jewels, eoronet, dagger, veils, point lace 
drapery, ornaments of all descriptions, &c., &e. 

Comedy.— White satin and other dresses, hats, fans, 
veils, scarfs, flowers, &c., &e. Silk fleshings, frock coat, 
trousers, waistcoat, boots, and hat; page’s dress, Turkish 
dress, peasant’s dresses of all nations, gloves, mittens, 
aprons, cottage bonnets, and various other little things of 
names known only to the sex. 

The material of which ladies’ dresses are made, is not 
an object so much as the style and arrangement of colours, 
but it is superflous to offer advice on the subject, when so 
much good taste is generally found. 

A great deal of the success of a part necessarily depends 
on the way it is dressed and made up, much depends on 
the person himself in this respect, and it is quite impossible 
to lay down perfect rules upon the subject. I beg to quote, 

c 


26 THE ART OF ACTING. 


for the use of my readers, the following remarks upon this 
subject, from an old work, Leman Rede’s “ Guide to the 
Stage” :— 

‘“‘ very one on entering the theatre at night, should 
wash his face, and, after drying it thoroughly, pass lightly 
a powder puff over it. This is highly necessary to those. 
whose skin is naturally greasy. The colour should then 
be applied with a hare’s foot, care being taken not to lay 
it on too heavily. The best ‘colour is decidedly a mixture 
of carmine and Chinese vermilion, the latter to be first 
boiled in milk, and then suffered to dry. 

Crape Hair is the best imitation of Moustaches, 
Whiskers, §c., and can be easily attached to the face with 
liquid glue, or a solution of powdered gum and water. 
Indian ink, applied with a camel’s hair pencil, dipped in 
gum is sometimes used. Both moustache and whiskers 
that are easily adjusted can be procured of any theatrical 
wig-maker. 

‘‘ The art of making up to represent old age, is a study 
in itself ; nothing that we could write would convey any 
instruction. This can only be acquired by a study of the 
play of the muscles, and the most common contractions 
or furrows of age. 

‘In the representation of Moors, Negroes, Indians, &e, 
many mixtures of ingredients for the skin are recom- 
mended, but we think the following the best. For a 
black or negro, either of the following answers well, but 
the second is less disagreeable. Cover the face, &e., 
with a thin coat of lard, then with a hare’s foot, apply burnt 
cork, finely powdered. A strong colouring of carmine 
should then be SDRUES to the cheeks to throw up the 
expression. 

“The other plan is, get some burnt oe (powdered) 
on a plate, and, with a cloth dipped in cold water, apply 
it to the face, &e., and color as before. 

‘For the Moor, &c., Spanish brown, with or without 
a slight mixture of carmine, is the best colouring matter ; 
it can be applied either with water, beer, or by first coat- 
ing the face with lard. 

“‘ The ladies in general are so au fait at improving their 
charms, that any advice from us must seem ridiculous. 


THE ART OF ACTING. iy 


“Some of the cosmetiques used are of an exceedingly 
injurious nature—they should be only purchased of 
respectable vendors. Muslins should be rendered in- 
combustible by the starch manufactured for that purpose.” 


CHAPTER VI. 
CONCLUSION. 


In the ruder times of the stage, theatrical art was con- 
sidered to be so thoroughly a profession that the principal 
actors took apprentices, to whom they taught the mysteries 
of their craft, and with such success, that the most popular 
talent at the period of the Restoration, had emanated from 
their hands. It is true that literary feeling constituted 
no part in the character the early comedians were in the 
habit of bearing; but in strong and faithful adherence to 
the various passions of nature, it is not unlikely that their 
positive excellence has never been eclipsed. A century 
and a half has added to our stock of stage notions, and it 
is no longer considered unnecessary for the actor to claim 
a knowledge of the general literature with which they are 
surrounded; but it is scarcely doubtful, if in point of 
education for their particular pursuits, they are not 
infinitely less accomplished than their illiterate predeces- 
sors, who, let it be remembered, were taught upon me- 
chanical principles, 

The actors of Greece and Rome, to go further in this 
point than mere inference, were regarded as members of a 
liberal profession, and expected to acquire it by a long 
course of exercise and study, upon the principle of 
Quintillian, that “The labour we go through in our appren- 
ticeship, should be much harder than what we are to 
endure when made masters of our art.” From the great 
eare and attention shown by the ancients, we may conceive 
what industry the several parts of their profession cost 
them, and it is easy to imagine, that in gaining the 
superior advantages they possessed, they must have 
travelled through a round of painful applications, prac- 
tising, like the gladiators, with heavier weapons than 
those they were to fight with. 


28 


Acting, from the days of Shakespeare to the present 
time, has generally been taken up to indulge with more 
impunity the follies and vices of youth, or as. the final 
resource of difficulty and distress, There have been few 
exceptions to this rule, and hardly a single instance is 
now before us, of an eminent performer preceeding volun- 
tarily from the sphere of competence to embrace the 
duties he is following. This isan extraordinary truth, as 
the public at large have not only made the profession 
liberal by their encouragement, but lucrative by their 
bounty; and we cannot help agreeing with Colley Cibber, 
that if an actor ‘‘ excels on the stage, and is irreproachable 
in his personal morals and behaviour, his professsion is so 
far from being an impediment, that it will be oftener a 
just reason for his being received among people of con- 
dition with favour; and sometimes with a more social dis- 
tinction than the best, though more profitable, trade he 
might have followed, could have recommended him to.” 

With these spurs to quicken them, it is surprising that 
men of finished education and polite ideas should so ob-~ 
stinately neglect the profession of an actor, though weil 
aware that it opens avenues to high and elegant inter- 
course, which are sternly shut against talents of a more 
lofty order. Owing to this apathy, we see individuals 
pushing forward in rapid succession to the highest walks 
of the drama; and hence the stage becomes covered with 
shoals of candidates, pretending to public distinction, 
without a particle of the exquisite taste and elaborate 
study which is required. 


THE END 


_- etd 


i LAGOS. 8 


Ce 


~~ 


Back Scene, Border, and : Set of Wings, unmounted 


Ditto,\mounted .. nt: nd 
Back Scene, Border, with 2 Sets o 
\Scene, unmounted 

Ditto, mounted . i 


2 0 

AG re aa 3 a3 oe 4 4 
f Wings as above to form Box 

ie ao as bs ae .. 210 

oe owe eae see 6 +5] 


Co 2c 


: 9201 Aunt Tae’ s Flat — 


2202 Crystal Gazer sh es wep 


- 2203 Castle in Spain 
2204 Strange Relation— 
2205 aA of Piracy - 


OLUME 148 © = 
ee With-an ‘‘e ” 
_ 2207 New Groom . 
2208 A Happy Ending 
2209 Neuchars Junction 
2210 Cousins Once Removed | 
2211 Sowing the Wind, 1s. | 
2212 Late Mr. Castello, 1s, 
2213 Too Many Cooks 
2214 Newspaper Nuptials 
2215 Anthony’s Legacy 
2216 Batied Spinster 
2217 Man of Ideas 
9218 Bunch of: Violets, 1s. 
2219 'I'wo Naughty Old 
ci Ladies 
2220 In and Out of a Punt 


“VOLUME 149 


$221 Matrimonial Agency 
» 3222 As Once in May P 
-2223 Richard Wye 
2224 Faithful James 
9925 Obstinate Woman 
2276 sudged by Appear- 
ances 
2227 Mixed Addresses 
“2228 Who Won ? 
2229 Mistaken Identity 
22930 Lady Klizaheth oote 
¥ Gubbins. 
9931 Solicitor : 
2232 Only Amateurs _ 
2233 Poor Old Perkins 
2934 Bird in the Bush 
235 Nita, the;Dancer- 


VOLUME 150 
236 The Dentist 

2237 Taken for Granted 
9238 Just as Well * 
2239 Hogmany 

2240 Pansy 


'AN AMERICAN CITIZEN 
BILLY'S LITTLE LOVE 
AFFAIR 

BRACE 0F PARFRIDGES 
BRIXTON BURGLARY 
CAPTAIN SWIFT 
CASSILIS ENGAGEMENT 


CHARITY THAT BEGAN 


ATHOME 
- COUNTRY MOUSE. 

- FAGING THE MUSIC 
FASCINATING MR. VAN- 
DERVELD?  ~ 
IDLER. 


IMPORTANCE OF BEING 


EARNKSE 
IN CHANCERY 


: SRENCH'S J ACTING EDITION—71s. ae Vol, most y 6d. each| 


2241 A Doctor’ 8 Bhgage- ! 
iO --Mnents — a 


ge. A Duse 


2213 My Milliner’s” Bill, Tes 


| 2244 My Aunt from Cali. — 


fornia 
2245 His Life for Hers 
2246 The Meeting 


2247 The Umbreila 


‘Duologue 
2248 The Tate, Lamented 
2249 Woman Triumphant 
2250 Angelina’s eaNer 


VOLUME 151 _ 


2251 Chrysanthemums 
2252 My First Client 

2253 Punctured 

2254 Old Pals 

2265 Honeymoon Tragedy — 
2256 Commission 

2257 Hal, the Hishwayainn 
2258 Dinner for ‘wo 

9259 Ninth Waltz ate 
2260 Human Sport 
2261 Collaborators 

2762 Mere Man 

2263 Packing Up 

2264 Paying | Guest 


, 2265 ’Enery Brown 


VOLUME 152 


9266. The Jilt \ 

2267 ’Op-o’ -Me- Thumb ; 

2268 A Marriage Has Been 

Arranged 

2269 Carrots. . 

2270 Conversion of 
Sturge 

2271 Clerical Error 

2272 Aubrey Closes the Door 

2213 Workbox 

2214 Tw- on a’Bus 

2275 Bridget’s Blunders 

2276 That Brute Simmons 

2277 Well Matched 

2278 Maker of Men 

2279 Gutter.of Time 

Chess 


1s 6d. net Edition 
JEDBURY JUNIOR 
LADY HUNTWORTH’S 
EXPERIMENT 


Nat 


*LADY WINDERMERE’S 


. . FAN 
LIBERTY HALL 


_ LUCKY MISS DEAN 


MICE AND MEN 

MISS ELIZABETH’S 
PRISONER 

MISS HOBBS 

-MOLLENTRAVE ON 
WOMEN | 

NEW.BOY 

NIOBE 

OH! SUSANNAH! 

ONE SUMMER’S DAY 


2s. 6d. net Library Edition 


JOSEPH ENTANGLED 
MANCUVRES OF JANE 


| MOLLENTRAVE ON 


WOMEN 


| 2281 Mr. Avi pal 


2296 Wrong Side of 
Road 
2297 The Open Door 


} 


VOLUME 153 


Oor 
2282 Ella’s Apeloay f 
2283 Colour Sergeant | 
2284 Helpless Couple 
2285 First Aid tw tb’! 

Wounded | 
2286 Correct Thing 
2287 Their a Pa 


Gues 
2288 Domeit 

ment 
2289 Salt of Life 
2290 Time is Money > 
2291 Wally and the Wi 
2292 Deceitful Miss Srv) 
2293 Holly Tree Inn — | 
2294 Up-to-date | 
2295 Bit of Old Chelsea’ 


VOLUME 154 


Enta| 


2298 Prima Donna (TI 
berton) 

2299 Lights Out (Pembei 

2400 Mirror of Time | 

2301 Three Blind Mice 
(Muskerry) 

2302 Privy Council | 

2303 Snowed” up wit 

- Duchess 

2304 Acacia Cottage 

2305 Fabricato 

2306 Compromising Ma 

2307 Rest Cure — 


~ 2308 Misses Primrose’s 


ception 


“2309 Hjection ef A 


- Lucinda 
2310 Uncle Dick’s Darli: 


VOLUME 155 


2311 That Horrid Major 


2312 Bardwell v. Pickw 
2313 House of Nightin, 
2314 Turtle Doves 

2315 Superior Miss Pelle 


PARVENU 


PASSPORT 


PERFECT LOVER _ 

PRIVATE SECRETAR 

RETURN OF THE & 
DIGAL 


ROCKET ah (I 
SNUG | LITTLE KI 
SQUIRE 


SUNLIGHT & SHAD: 
TWO MR. WETHERB’ 
WALKER, LONDON 
WHEN WE WERE 
TWENTY-ONE 

WILDERNESS _ 

WISDOM OF FOLLY 
WOODBAKKOW FAr 


PERFECT LOVER 
SILVER KING 


WALLS OF JERICHO 


mt 


